Ulterior Motives
by Burst.ofSILENCE
Summary: In which Rachel has a bad habit of painting at odd hours of the evening, and Nico just wants his personal space heater to cuddle with him. OneShot.


**Just a short-ish drabble for lovelysolitude's prompt in the rachel_nico LJ community: 'In which Nico uses the cold as an excuse for getting cuddles~'**

**Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns Percy Jackson and the Olympians**

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**Ulterior Motives**  
_Baby, it's cold outside_

"Rachel." The redhead glanced up from her painting in time to see him sleepily shuffle through the door of her studio.

"What?" She asked. For a minute, Nico just stared at her, and she was becoming slightly worried at the look on his face. "Nico?"

"I'm cold."

She snorted, as if to say: _No, really?_ It was the middle of winter, in New York, no less. Chilly nights were not uncommon, especially in the last week. Rachel didn't see what Nico's big deal was.

"You know where the extra blankets are." She told him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she turned away from him and focused her attention back onto her canvas.

Honestly, he knew not to disturb her whenever she woke up in the middle of the night to paint. She didn't care if she was fulfilling some 'hipster artist stereotype or whatever he called it; inspiration struck the Oracle at random moments and, by the gods, she was going to heed its call, respectable hour or not. And if that left her standing in front of her easel at three in the morning, then she reckoned the son of Hades couldn't do anything about it.

"Rachel—"

"Not now, Nico." She interrupted.

"But _Rachel,_"

Oh, he was _definitely_ whining now. On any other occasion, she would have found this grogginess-induced, almost childlike side of Nico adorable, seeing as he always had this Mr. Tall, Dark, and Snarky thing going on whenever he was fully awake. But as it was, he was interrupting her while she was working, and she didn't like being disturbed while she painted.

Rachel didn't reply, hoping that if she ignored him long enough, he would just give up and go back to sleep. Instead of leaving her alone, though, Nico did the exact opposite.

She had not noticed him when he approached her from behind, but she _did_ notice him when his large hands slipped under her shirt and rested flat on her bare stomach. The brush in her hand clattered on the floor as she yelped. "Dammit, Nico! Your hands are _freezing!"_

She shivered and tried to step away from his hands, but she only succeeded in moving closer to him until her back was flush against his front. His hands came after her and resumed their previous spot, effectively trapping her against him and causing her to let out another squeak once they came back in contact with her skin.

Warm lips settled on the juncture of her neck and shoulder, creating a stark contrast to his cold hands.

"Come back to bed." He mumbled. Each word caused his lips to move against her skin, making her shiver for an entirely different reason. Rachel found her traitorous body tilting her head to the side to give him more access.

_"I'm. busy."_She managed to grit out as his nose skimmed her skin. His hot breath ghosted over her neck as he slowly exhaled, and Rachel would've toppled over if he hadn't been holding her against him. His arms wrapped tighter around her waist, the cold temperature of his hands causing her to squirm as much as his lips did.

"But I'm _cold._" He said. He trailed kisses up her neck until he reached the patch of skin behind her ear. She froze.

"Don't even think about—"

Her stomach swooped and she lost her trail of thought when he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the highly-sensitive skin. He did it again, and again, an _again_ until she was reduced to a shuddering mess.

"Nico, I— _Dammit_— Oh, this is so not fair!" She complained.

_Damn, Dare. Who's whining now?_

He kissed that spot one more time and she groaned in surrender, hastily setting down the paint palette in her hand. She felt his lips curl up into a triumphant smirk at her actions.

Damn cheeky bastard.

He refused to let go of her even as they were on their way back to their bedroom on the grounds of him 'making sure she wouldn't make a run for it.' It resulted in them doing this awkward bump-and-shuffle all the way from her studio to their bed.

With the covers already thrown back, Nico picked her up and gently laid her down on the bed. He settled down beside her, pulling the covers over both of them before spooning her from behind. He then wrapped his arms securely around her and buried his nose in her frizzy bedhead.

Rachel had been surprised when she first found out Nico was a cuddler. Over the years, though, she had gotten used to it and even looked forward to waking up with his arms unfailingly wrapped around her and with his heady scent being the first thing she smelled.

Yes, she liked cuddling with Nico di Angelo. Now that he wasn't accosting her with his lips and she could think clearly, though, she was pretty irked about how she had ended up cuddling with him _now_. Her mind flashed back to her studio – to her uncleaned paintbrush, the palette loaded with paint, and the still-open bottles. With the low temperature, the paints would dry up and harden in a few hours and her brush would be completely unusable.

"You are so making me a nice breakfast in the morning," she grumbled. "I want the works, di Angelo."

"Consider it done." He replied, already on the fringe of sleep. She felt a feather-light touch on her hair. "'Night, Red."

She sighed. A small smile grudgingly appeared on her lips as she turned around and burrowed closer to him, their feet tangling together. His hands had warmed up considerably in the last few minutes and she found them comforting as they rested on her back. "Good night, Nico."

She figured there were worse ways to spend a cold winter night.

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